


greedy, greedy, greedy

by deathsweetqueen



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Light Angst, Light Bondage, M/M, Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deathsweetqueen/pseuds/deathsweetqueen
Summary: Bucky's already running late for his class after practice and Ms Carter's a stickler for timely attendance. He really does not need Tony spiriting him off to the locker room for some afternoon hanky-panky.Of course, all his protests die the minute Tony slips down to his knees.





	greedy, greedy, greedy

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this all began after some fangirling over THAT scene in The Covenant in the Winteriron Discord server and I couldn't help myself. You know what I'm talking about. Anyway, this is basically Tony cornering Bucky in the locker room for a blowjob, and it's my very first Marvel fic ever, so I am very excited and slightly insecure, in the interests of full disclosure.
> 
> Special thanks to my girls in the Winteriron Discord server, for actually bearing with me while I got this done; you guys are epic and I love you <3
> 
> Oh, btw, the title comes from Trista Mateer's poem, Peaches.

Bucky almost screams when a hand wraps around his wrist. His entire world turns when he’s suddenly pulled off his feet and yanked into the locker room. Suddenly, he’s up against the lockers, and he blinks down at a wicked-eyed Tony, who simply waggles his eyebrows.

“Hey, doll,” Bucky clears his throat. “What’s up?”

Tony shrugs. “Nothing much. I’m bored.”

Bucky frowns. “Don’t you have class?”

Tony gives him a withering look. “It’s physics. Think it through.”

Bucky grimaces. “Good point.”

His boyfriend frequently skips out on any class remotely relating to science; however, he supposes that it doesn’t really matter, since Principal Coulson never seems to object when he catches Tony up on one of the brick walls near the bleachers, his legs swinging as he twists his screwdriver into his latest robot (personally, he knows that Tony picks _that_ wall because it gives him a good view of the field when Bucky has practice – and maybe, just maybe, although he’ll deny it to his grave, he winks a little extravagantly into the sun, flexes his muscles, because he knows Tony’s watching).

Tony’s eyes wander to his still-damp hair, tied in a bun at the nape of his neck for convenience. “Did you just have a shower?” He asks, curiously.

“Yeah, just finished practice,” Bucky replies.

Tony grins. “Great.”

He leans in and kisses Bucky real slow, his mouth moving against his in a way that sends warmth rushing to his lower stomach. He groans and cups the back of Tony’s neck, pulling him in close. Tony’s a little shorter than him, so he fits perfectly once they’re pressed together, although he’d like it a little more if their positions were reversed and he could hike Tony up the lockers just a bit higher. There’s a bit of a crick in his neck as the kissing turns from moments to minutes, but Bucky isn’t half as motivated to pull away, because Tony’s hands start sliding down his ribcage, resting on his hips.

Finally, the urge to breathe becomes something Bucky absolutely cannot ignore any longer and he pulls away.

“Is there anyone in the locker room?” Tony whispers against his jaw.

He had once said that Bucky had a potato face, but for some reason, his lips just didn’t seem to agree.

“No, I was the last,” Bucky tells him. “Why?”

Tony’s lips twitch. “Oh, just _reasons_ ,” He replies, blithely.

 _Ominous_ , Bucky thinks, suspiciously.

And he’s proven correct.

He quietly but deliberately unbuttons Bucky’s shirt, parting the edges so that he can look his fill of Bucky’s well-formed abdomen (Tony could write odes to Bucky’s musculature – lean and mean that he is – but out of respect for Bucky’s adorable blush, he lets it go). He loosens Bucky’s tie and pulls it from the collar of his shirt, handing it to Bucky.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Bucky asks, bewildered.

“Tie my hands up,” Tony says, simply, as if the offer to indulge in bondage is on the table all the time (but Bucky supposes, with Tony, it is).

Bucky momentarily stares at the tie and then back at Tony, wondering about the logistics of tying his boyfriend’s hand up, when Tony gets fed up with his boyfriend’s delay and rolls his eyes, crossing his wrists behind his back and turning around, gesturing pointedly. Bucky clears his throat and manages to tie a feeble knot around Tony’s wrists (but he knows, even if it is flimsy, Tony won’t disentangle himself).

Tony beams at him. He drags himself to his knees, slow and provocatively, like one of those boys in the videos he used to watch _before_ he worked up the courage to ask Tony out (if anyone asks, that’s his story, even though Steve vehemently disagrees and the punk fucking laughed when he went to ask Tony out and tripped and promptly fell on his face before he could even get the words ‘do you want to go out with me’ out of his mouth – which, by the way, Tony found hilarious, but took pity on him and helped him get to his feet, because Steve was still laughing, and told him to meet him at the movies at 7 because he wanted to see the new Star Wars movie and Bucky seemed like an okay choice in movie companion – Bucky still preens).

Bucky straightens and misjudges the distance between his head and the handle for the locker above him and bangs his head. He winces, and Tony rises to his feet.

“You okay, Bucky Bear?” Tony asks, worriedly, wanting to smooth a hand across the back of Bucky’s head.

Instead he presses their foreheads together.

Bucky leans in. “Yeah, I’m good.” _Clearly not so good at this sex stuff though._

Tony beams and slinks back down to his knees.

“Tony, doll, what are you doing?”

Tony raises his eyebrow and gestures to his hard cock outlined in his slacks with a nod of his head. Bucky resists the urge to blush – he’s seventeen and all Tony has to do is look at him to get him hard, not to mention, those SHIELD Academy slacks aren’t the best at hiding erections.

“I thought it was obvious,” Tony said, dryly. “But clearly I need to work on my signals.”

“What if someone comes in?” Bucky asks, roughly.

Tony grins, slyly, his mouth red. “Well, then, you’ll just have to be extra, _extra_ quiet,” He taunts. He clears his throat. “Take your cock out.” He orders.

Bucky is momentarily amazed at his boyfriend’s ability to kneel there, with his hands tied behind his back, and issue orders like he’s the one in charge, but it is Tony, after all. So, he does as he’s told and unzips his slacks. He reaches into his briefs, wrapping a rough palm around the base of his cock and pulling it out, so that the head bumps wetly against his abdomen.

Bucky pumps his cock once, then twice, offering it up for Tony to lap at the head, which he does eagerly. Bucky groans and leans his head back against the metal, which acts as enough of a shock that it stops him from finishing then and there. Tony swallows at least half of his cock, easily and without strain, and before long, his mouth is pressing against the coarse, dark hair at the base of his cock.

One hand slides in Tony’s hair and he pulls.

Tony whines, the pain going straight to his cock, which he can feel pulse.

“That’s it, doll,” Bucky pants. “Fuck, your mouth feels so good.”

Tony would say that Bucky is different in bed. He’s rougher, more demanding; he knows what he wants, even if he had been a virgin when they first got together and started screwing. In fact, Tony had been surprised the first time they had sex – he would never have pegged Bucky for a virgin if he didn’t have prior knowledge of the fact and confirmation from Natasha, who knew _everything_ about _everyone_.

Bucky does not fuck like a virgin. 

Today, he shows it more than ever.

When Tony scoots closer so he can rub up against Bucky’s thigh (he’s been hard for ages and fuck, he needs _something_ ), Bucky makes a sound of displeasure that has him looking up, worrying that he’s already done something wrong (he knows he’s good at sex, but the rest of that boyfriend-boyfriend stuff still confuses him – sex is something that can tie Bucky to him for as long as possible).

“Make me come first,” Bucky orders. “Then you can get off.”

Tony scowls around Bucky’s cock, but doesn’t say anything, the injustice of the demand making his cock throb. He continues to suck at Bucky’s cock, his tongue petting the thick vein on the underside. He tastes warm skin, the salt from light sweat and clean soap from Bucky’s shower, and leans back on his heels, closing his eyes. All he knows is the weight of him on his tongue – it’s familiar enough that it has him remembering how normally his blowjobs aren’t the entire act. Most of the time, his blowjobs end with Bucky ploughing him into the mattress.

He lets his mouth slide over the length of Bucky’s cock, pausing at the head so that his tongue can take little licks over where the pre-come is budding. The taste is somewhat bitter, but Tony is used to it, and he likes giving Bucky a blowjob, so ignores that fact. He purses his lips around the head of his cock in a tight seal and sucks ardently.

“Fuck, look at me, Tony,” Bucky says, roughly.

Tony looks up, making sure his eyes are as wide as possible and, as if he were a dog hearing the sound of a metronome, Bucky groans. He is now fucking into Tony’s mouth roughly, his hips thrusting forwards. Tony has to adapt to the sudden change in pace, when Bucky’s hand in his hair tightens, but he’s had enough practice that he doesn’t even gag.

“God, I love your mouth, doll,” Bucky pants, his free hand thumbing Tony’s lower lip where it’s stretched obscenely around his cock. “I’d stay here all day, with you sucking my cock, if I could. Wouldja like that?”

His eyes are blown black now, blending in with the pupil.

Tony whines around the weight of him – the thought is more than nice. He imagines kneeling by Bucky’s bed, sucking him off whenever Bucky wants, and he thrusts his hips forward, helpless with his hands tied behind his back.

He’s hungry, _aching_ for it.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful like this. Your mouth is so red and wet and shit, that’s good. Take me in. _Just like that_.”

Again, he still marvels at how Bucky changes from the charming, loyal shit-stirrer that couldn’t even ask Tony out on a date without tripping over his own two feet to the Edward-Grey-channelling (Tony actually really liked watching that movie with Bucky, if he had been initially stumped by the Maggie Gyllenhaal of it all – it made for some pretty fun times), bondage-dabbling Pornomancer who’s currently pulling his hair and gently-but-firmly guiding Tony’s mouth over his cock.

When they first started dating, Bucky had avidly tried to emulate Steve, thinking that the guy who had absolutely no game with anyone was the peak of boyfriend material: he carried Tony’s books for him; he even brought him his lunch (because apparently Bucky is secretly a mother-hen and Tony needs to fatten up – no kidding, Bucky actually said that – of course, he paid his debt to society when Tony proceeded to lecture him, in front of the entire cafeteria, while standing on top of the table, on the evils of body-shaming). Tony put a stop to Bucky carrying his books when he ‘accidentally’ dropped his heaviest quantum mechanics book on Bucky’s foot, just so he’d get the picture. Now, when Tony sits down at their table during lunch, with the lunch he got for himself, thank you very much, Bucky flops down next to him and steals Tony’s hard-earned cupcake, despite Tony’s vigorous protests (not that the bastard cares).

Tony likes to think that Bucky started acting like normal around him because he realised that their relationship is something that’s here to stay, but he knows he’s kidding himself. Bucky is lovely, and he clearly cares about Tony, but Tony’s faced facts about things much more miserable than this. Bucky is kind and sweet, loyal and charming and really, the perfect boyfriend; he can have any girl or boy he wants and for some reason, he’s bent on having Tony (Tony maintains that it’s due to his sexual prowess, which is both a compliment in itself as well as a sad truth of his life).

He supposes that he doesn’t exactly have many options available to him, short of breaking it off with Bucky, and simply waiting out the day that Bucky comes to the inevitable conclusion that mind-blowing sex does not make up for the absence of those other boyfriend-boyfriend things that Tony knows he will never be good at, at least adequate enough that he’d be deserving of Bucky. Tony knows that Bucky will soon learn that the two aren’t mutually exclusive and he’ll someone willing to give him all of those things (and Tony’s not even factoring college into this).

Bucky’s hips slow and Tony’s broken out of his stream of consciousness. He looks up, only to find Bucky staring down at him with a worried expression.

Tony is immediately shamefaced. The legendary Ethical Slut Tony Stark falling down on the (blow)job (pun unintended).

Bucky pulls his cock from Tony’s mouth. “You okay, babe?”

Tony blinks. “Yeah,” He says, roughly. “I’m good.”

“You wanna keep going?”

Bucky is always considerate.

Tony doesn’t reply in words. Instead, he drops his eyes down to Bucky’s cock, still hard and streaked wetly, and he licks his lips. He leans forward, managing to grind his own cock against Bucky’s thigh, and sucks the head in again, bobbing his head in earnest. Tony would use a hand to wrap around the base of Bucky’s cock, if he had access to his hands, but he supposes it’s his own fault – he exchanged efficiency for kink and now he must pay the price.

Tony looks up and sees Bucky’s eyes are closed, even if he continues to nudge his hips forward. Tony takes advantage of Bucky’s distraction and deep-throats him abruptly.

“Fuck!” Bucky shouts.

He glares down at Tony.

Tony wants to gloat, but clearly his mouth is already preoccupied. His shoulders slump instinctively as the head of Bucky’s cock touches the back of his throat. He lets his gag reflex react, just enough that the slight spasming makes Bucky want to come, right then and there. He pulls away, when his eyes start to burn, though, because choking and spitting are not sexy and he’d rather this make for an entirely pleasurable experience.

Bucky makes a noise of sweet frustration. “You’re gonna be the death’a me, doll,” He pants.

His voice is thick with the Brooklyn twang that he and Steve share, which often disappears when he’s among their group, but somehow slips often when they’re screwing.

Tony withdraws with a wet, popping noise that has Bucky thrusting emptily into the air, his knees weak.

“You’ll die very fucking happy. Now, stop complaining.”

Tony’s voice sounds like he’s a chain-smoker in his sixties, but it’s smug as hell and teasing enough that it makes Bucky half-want to spank him until his arse turns a pretty pink and half-want to kiss him until his eyes roll back into his head and for a few minutes, he’s actually lost for words (which is no small feat, Bucky can assure anyone).

Tony runs the flat of his tongue across the seam between the Bucky’s balls, sloppily but gently, and lets the tip of his tongue dip briefly and massage his perineum. Bucky’s hands are shaking in his Tony’s hair and Tony knows that he’s barely able to keep it together. His cock bumps against Tony’s cheek and spills wetly, leaving a streak of spit and pre-come.

And now, for the _pièce de résistance_.

Tony swallows his cock down and drags his teeth, lightly, over the length of him. That single line between pain and pleasure has Bucky shouting out Tony’s name in warning (loud enough that Tony wonders if they will actually be caught this time). Tony draws back just a little, enough to rest the head of Bucky’s cock on the flat of his tongue, and he looks up with wide, brown eyes, just watching silently as Bucky falls over the edge, his hips losing all coordination.

Bucky stares down at his boyfriend, sitting politely on his knees with Bucky’s cock in his mouth, red, plump and slick, and that’s enough to make him come with a rough groan, his vision whiting out briefly. Tony’s lips close around the head of his cock and he spills wetly in thick white streaks onto Tony’s tongue, the orgasm hurtling through Bucky and making his abdomen curl inwards. Tony swallows and then suckles at the head until Bucky stops pulsing, knowing that the oversensitivity is just enough to dance around that line of pain-pleasure and prolong his orgasm.

Bucky slumps back against the lockers, but somewhat shudders away from the chill of the metal, his hand still shaking. Tony lets Bucky’s cock slide out of his mouth with a damp sound, lying limp between Bucky’s thighs. Bucky looks down at him, kneeling obediently, his hands tied behind his back, perfectly content, the outline of his hard cock visible through Tony’s slack, and has a wicked idea. One hand drags Tony’s still plump lower lip down, which Tony eagerly wraps his lips around and scraps his teeth against in an imitation blowjob, lewd enough that it has Bucky’s cock twitching half-heartedly (Natasha had once made the comment that teenage boys get hard in a gentle breeze – Bucky would very much like to tell her that she was right, but he really doesn’t want to put up with all the ragging to which Bucky will colour, and Tony will leer).

He slides his hand through Tony’s thick, dark hair, unintentionally messy from Bucky’s ministrations, and Tony’s head tips back unbiddenly.

Bucky tugs on Tony’s hair, sharp and true, which is enough for Tony to make a small, helpless noise, grind upwards against Bucky’s firm thigh, and come in his slacks (something which Tony will not easily forgive him for – it will take at least three orgasms after school and Bucky’s _magnanimous_ yielding of Tony’s prized red-velvet cupcake to be let off the hook).

“Fuck,” Tony curses in a wrecked voice and ruts his hips in the air to nothing solid (oh, Bucky’s payment will be _so good_ that afternoon), his whole body taut and arched in a perfect curve.

He looks up at Bucky and shakes his head, his hair slightly matted with sweat and product. Bucky releases the strands in his fingers’ grips and helps Tony to his feet, his limbs also leaden, reaching behind him to pull his wrists free of his tie. Tony cracks his shoulders and stretches out his arms.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair, his brows knitted together in a frown. “Sorry, doll.”

He wraps his hands around Tony’s arms and rubs fiercely, transferring warmth to the aching muscles.

Tony snorts. “Why are you apologising? I’m the one who wanted you to tie my hands.” He grimaces. “In retrospect, maybe not the best idea,” He mutters to himself.

Bucky pouts. “Hey, I liked it!”

Tony scoffs. “Yeah, I bet you did.” He gives Bucky a smug smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

Bucky laughs. “Oh, yeah, you Sex God you.”

Tony preens. “Sex God. I like the sound of that.” 

Bucky has the sudden urge to kiss Tony and he gives into it easily. Tony melts into Bucky’s arms, making soft noises of want. Bucky’s extra inches both lengthwise and widthwise works in his favour as he curls his body around his boyfriend. They continue kissing for a few minutes before the need to breathe becomes too great to ignore, and Tony pulls away, shaking his head.

“Okay,” Tony says, a little high-pitched. “I’ve got English like ten minutes ago. Gotta blast.”

Bucky just stares dumbly as Tony simply kisses him on the cheek (he’s very much aware of where that mouth has been) and scampers out of the locker room without a second glance at Bucky, who is pretty much the poster boy of _just got brain sucked out through dick_. He stays there, slumped against the lockers, until awareness catches up to him and he realises his next class after gym started half an hour ago (and Tony fucking knew that, the jerk).

“Shit. Shit. Shit.”

He checks his reflection out in the mirror and hurriedly buttons up his shirt, tucking the hem into his slacks, which are still unzipped, correcting that fault immediately. His tie is somewhat crooked, and his hair looks like he just woke up, but it has to be enough because he’s supposed to be in math with Ms Carter and she’s not stingy with the detentions.

Just for that, he’s not being magnanimous and he’s so taking Tony’s cupcake.

**Author's Note:**

> So, if you're still curious to see what scene I was talking about, or you just need a 'quick' reminder:
> 
> https://78.media.tumblr.com/b10ba30b2c8700c582223a7a19769633/tumblr_p88ej3cu8s1wfcqtvo3_400.gif
> 
> https://78.media.tumblr.com/5f0b311aec1d758ae569de34a879d18c/tumblr_p88ej3cu8s1wfcqtvo6_400.gif


End file.
